


Knit One

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, F/M, Fluff, Seriously...., Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: Cooped up in bed with an injured back, Brienne is in desperate need of a distraction. A project. And thanks to a particularly nasty winter, and a particularly handsome Jaime Lannister, she finds one.





	Knit One

**Author's Note:**

> For Kopparberg. Thanks for the prompt, I hope I did it justice!

Brienne was a trained boxer, over six feet of muscles and stubbornness and; as far as Jaime was concerned, completely and utterly adorable. It was probably the mussed blonde hair and pyjamas, blue ones with little ponies scampering all over. She had been less than impressed when Jaime brought them over, but anything was better than the hospital gown with the big gap in the bottom. She had to be paraded around in it before the army of specialists Jaime had conjured up, to be assessed and examined and handled.

Brienne needed to do something physical, something that gave her a sense of accomplishment. She was used to workouts every day, pushing herself harder and harder. Heart pounding and skin slick with sweat, it was the only time when she and her body were at peace with one another.

“It will be worth it to have your back mend properly,” Jaime said in a maddeningly conciliatory manner. “Better this than be left with permanent damage. And at least you have your own room.”

The room may have been nice, with flowers and paintings and a view overlooking manicured gardens, but nothing changed the fact she was going to be stuck in her bed, forced into a mind-numbing idleness, until her back began to recover. There was only so much tv a person could watch.

And that wasn’t even considering the bed baths and toilet pans.

During one of his daily visits, her aggravatingly handsome manager strode in, nose red and lips blue. He shook his hair like a wet dog, sighing as he entered the warm sanctuary of Brienne’s hospital room.

“Not even a smile?” he grumbled as he plopped down beside her. “I braved the elements to get to you Wench! I’m certain to get a cold.”

“Poor you,” Brienne muttered, idly leafing through the stack of magazines Jaime had dumped beside her bed. “How will you ever cope?”

“Don’t mock,” Jaime pouted. “I know I’m going to be sick, and then I will have to check myself in and your link to the outside world will be gone.” Jaime perched on the end of her bed and stroked back her blonde hair. “Maybe we could be roommates!”

“Gods no,” Brienne grumbled, “Just get yourself a hat and scarf.”

“I do have a hat and scarf. I have eleven scarves and eight hats, _actually_.”

“Then wear them!”

“I can’t!”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because they’re bloody cashmere and they’re designer, I’m not getting them wet!”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Then buy another set.”

Jaime’s eyes boggled. “What, buy another pair of designer hats and scarves, but you were the one who said I needed to economize if I wanted to break away from my dad.”

Brienne huffed and shook her head. “You really are helpless Jaime, you really are. Just get yourself a normal hat and scarf you can actually wear in the rain.”

And like that, strand by strand, an idea began to form. Weaving together neatly in her mind.

When Brienne was little, she was babysat by a nice old woman called Donyse, who she continued to visit weekly into her teens before the old woman’s death. She had taught Brienne to knit. It was a strange activity for the energetic young girl, but she had taken it like a duck to water. It had given her hands something to do when the storms and gales were too large even for her and her dad to go out in, and she had derived such pleasure from the bright colours and the patterns she could make.

Brienne waited until Jaime left, some hours later. She watched him leave to battle the winds and rain once more, before picking up her phone and calling Pod.

#

It had taken a while to get going. Her skills were rusty and there was more than one false start where she had to take it apart and begin all over again. But bit by bit, it came back to her and her fingers were deftly weaving in and out with a grace she had only ever mastered in the boxing ring, and by and large, the hat and scarf began to grow.

She had chosen an emerald green wool, the closest shade she could find to his eyes and it made her smile. She mixed the green with strands of white and light blue, so the whole pattern was reminiscent of waves foaming on the Sunset Sea.

Its creation broke the monotony of tv and check-ups, filling the time before she could begin her physical therapy and bringing a sense of purpose to her day. Already it was making Jaime grateful; despite it being a surprise, because for all his jovial façade he truly was worried for Brienne. The days stuck in bed had clearly been getting to her and the improvement in her mood was a relief.

The pattern Brienne used for Jaime’s hat and scarf was simple, nothing fancy or elegant. But they were neat, the colours were pleasing, and they promised to be wonderfully warm on completion, and Brienne could not help but be proud of her work.

Until time came to actually hand them over. Then she was struck with the idiocy of her plan. Jaime would wear hundreds of dragons worth of clothing in one day, thousands if he was going somewhere fancy. He wouldn’t be seen dead in her handmade, somewhat lumpy knitted hat and scarf.

She sat, cheeks burning as she watched Jaime tear open the wrapping paper. She cursed herself.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!

Jaime smiled as he first opened the package, chuckling at the memory of Brienne telling him to buy his own. But the smile slid off his face as he saw the lack of label and studied the workmanship.

Stupid_, stupid, stupid, stupid_, stupid!

“Brienne,” Jaime asked carefully, “did you make these?”

“Yeah,” Brienne mumbled. “But it’s alright, you don’t have to wear the-“

She was cut off by the sound of rustling wrapping paper as Jaime rammed the hat onto his head and flung the scarf round his neck. He beamed at her, hat covering his five hundred dragon haircut and scarf draping over his perfectly tailored suit. Peering between the heavy hat and thick scarf, his eyes crinkled and sparkled.

She had chosen the perfect shade of green, Brienne couldn’t help but notice.

“Does this…does this mean you like them?” she asked nervously.

“Like them?” Jaime repeated, scooting over. “I bloody adore them! Of course I do. You made them for me. Now,” he said, cupping the back of her head with his hand, “I just have to think of something to give to you.”

“You really don’t have to…” Brienne stammered, her heart fluttering at the press of his fingertips against her skin.

“Let me,” Jaime murmured, his breath sending hot hair down Brienne’s neck. “I want to,” he said, tipping his head forward until his lips were pressed against hers.

_‘Well,’ _Brienne thought_, ‘I know who got the better gift today!’_


End file.
